The solstice is here! The solstice is here! Hopping up and down, waving my arms with excitement, just like Steve Martin celebrating the arrival of the new phone book in The Jerk.
Because by this time of the year I’m desperate–positively desperate–for a few more minutes of daylight. I’m tired of waking up in the dark. Coming home from work in the dark. Feeding the horses in the dark.
I likes me my daylight. I like to be outside. I likes me my SUN! Even if the extra sun comes with the start of winter, that’s OK. Because after winter comes SPRING. My all time most favorite season.
From the Holiday Movie Dept.
This Saturday, Christmas Eve, the Hallmark channel will be rerunning the movie The Christmas Card. It was filmed right here in Nevada City–which is neither in Nevada nor a city but it is where I live. The movie is, umm…Hallmark. The scenery is GREAT.
Okay, now that you’ve checked off your list of teachers, people you went to school with or know from the local co-op gallery…how many female artists of note can you name?
Of note meaning right up there with the big boys.
Hmmm…not too many, eh? Two pop into my head fairly readily–Georgia O’Keefe. Frida Kahlo. Throw in Grandma Moses and make that three.
This is embarrassing. Especially since I’ve got a degree in art. It’s been a long time since I took any art history classes but yet if you asked how many MALE artists I could name, the big boys, I’d tell you to grab a cup of coffee and sit down ’cause this is gonna take awhile. I could tell you their names, Their most famous works. Who they hung out with. Where and when they lived and died. Along the way I’d throw in tidbits of juicy historical gossip.
Do you see what’s wrong with this picture?
I didn’t…but only because I never even thought about it. Been too busy raising a family, taking care of an elderly parent, tending critters, teaching art, making art…. I’ve been too busy squeezing everything in to look outside myself at the BIG picture. The picture that says the glass ceiling extends into the art world too.
Until my friend Tracy Verdugo (an artist as well as a woman–imagine that!) posted a link to a video on facebook. Check it out down below.
Late at night. Everyone else is in bed. Just me and my laptop…and the wireless connection.
Uh-oh…
I’ve done e-mail. Facebook. The news. I’ve skipped from art link to art link. Reading. Looking at pictures. Getting inspired. And then, somehow, I end up on Amazon.
Do you see where this is going?
Uh-huh…ART BOOKS!!!
Books! Book! Books! I loves me my books. Loves them so much a couple years ago I asked Santa for a Kindle. Because the books were taking over the house. Stacks of books by the bedside. On the floor. On every available surface. Towering over our heads as we wound our way through a literary forest, following the breadcrumbs from room to room.
Like something out of a bad reality TV show.
Well, okay. I’m embellishing. To make a point. Set the scene. Explain why I wanted needed a Kindle. I needed a Kindle for my inner infant instant gratification. For getting the book I want RIGHT NOW. Doesn’t matter if it’s 2AM. I just go on-line, click the buy now button and I’m reading the book within a minute.
Sweet.
Except don’t buy ART books on Kindle. Or any other e-reader for that matter. Art books need full size pages with big glossy photographs. Ones you can stare at and drool over.
So there I was, deep in Amazon’s Mixed Media section. It was late. I was tired. Defenses were down. And the buy now with one click button fit my finger just right.
I bought two. Flavor for Mixed Media: A Feast of Techniques for Texture, Color and Layers by Mary Beth Shaw. You can check it out here. And Unfurling, A Mixed-Media Workshop with Misty Mawn: Inspiration and Techniques for Self-Expression through Art by Misty Mawn. Here’s the link for that one.
They’ll be here in a couple of days but I really won’t have time to look at either one until after after the holidays. I’ll keep you posted. Look for the reviews in January.
And now I’d better go to bed before I buy something else.
Well here it is, the infamous tree from yesterday. the camera/computer connection is still out so I took a picture with my phone and emailed it to myself. Not the best way to do it but it gives you a visual.
Pictures are good. I like pictures. Which is probably why I’m an artist.
So right now the tree is naked. The lights go on tomorrow, along with whatever ornaments DaughterDearest Chooses to put up. We have glitter crusted macaroni angels going back over twenty years, treasures made when my kids were in preschool. And hung on the tree every year since. It sounds sweet but in reality it’s, umm…bordering on pathetic. Because some of them are little more than a single piece of pasta dangling from a tired red ribbon. I believe the originals were more complex examples of preschool art. Ziti bodies, elbow mac arms, bowtie wings. And of course the glitter. Lots of glitter.
They did not age well. Angel crumbs haunt the ornament boxes. Maybe it’s time to let them go. Flush ’em down the toilet or bury in the back yard with the dogs and cats. A couple of rats.
Or we could scatter the angel crumbs out front with my mom and dad. I’m sure they’d like that.
Or I can throw them in the garbage when no one is looking…except Santa. And God. Oh dear…how does one dispose of fallen angels?
Bringing a tree into the house inspires me to clean, something I do as infrequently as possible. I spent the day dusting and polishing. We’re all looking forward to sharing the holiday with the grand baby. She’s two years old, the perfect age for building sofa forts and cutting out sugar cookies with granma, aka moi.
Look at that face. OMG…I’ll be putty in her hands.
